a boys night at the betting ring
by onegreyelephant
Summary: due to boredom on the journey to mordor, the fellowship decide to set up a bet...'cos tolkien never said aragorn *wasn't* a sodomite
1. part one

**a boys night at the betting ring**

** part one**

The break for lunch was short. Yet long enough to put the plan in motion. Legolas nudged the small hobbit in front of him, "off you go then" he whispered encouragingly.

But now that it came down to it, suddenly Pippin felt that it wasn't such a great idea any more. Sure before, when he was just talking about it with Merry it had seemed funny. A way to break the monotony of the journey, and it had still seemed funny when Merry told Sam, and Sam told Frodo, and Legolas overheard and he had thought it was funny and said they were so right, and so he told the dwarf and Gandalf, and Gandalf had said it was mean, but then they'd explained to him again and explained how boring the journey was getting and he'd relented and decided it was funny too, and they all thought it was funny and...

Now it was actually time to get things moving, and he suddenly thought that it really wasn't such a great idea after all.

"Are you going or not?" Legolas hissed to him, "you have to go soon, before Aragorn gets back."

Pippin looked across at Merry, who gave him a quick gesture of encouragement. He didn't feel encouraged. He sighed and looked across at Boromir. The man was leaning against a rock with his usual _'I Don't Want to be Here'_ expression on his face. Dammit, Boromir was so...so...unapproachable, although at least he didn't actually seem to be _angry_ as such. Oh well, Pippin thought, it was now or never, and bracing himself, he marched tentatively across to the Steward.

Legolas and Merry watched expectantly as Pippin approached the man and struck up a conversation. At first he seemed disinterested, then, as Pippin pointed into the woods in the vague direction that Aragorn had taken only a few minutes before, Boromir sat bolt upright and stared incredulously at the small hobbit in front of him. He gave a sudden grin. Legolas and Merry exchanged shocked glances, they'd never seen him do that before.

And then all of a sudden Pippin was back with them, Aragorn was returning from the woods and the company was preparing to move. Merry and Legolas looked at Pippin expectantly.

"He's in!' Pippin whispered to them triumphantly.

~

The long day was finally coming to an end, the sun began to sink behind the mountains ahead of them, and the shadows lengthened across the forest floor.

Shit, thought an unimpressed Aragorn, who was, as per usual, bringing up the rear. The days always ended much too quickly, he felt. Twelve hours of Boromir-arse watching just seemed to go by so damn fast. He hated the sun for going down so early and encouraging Gandalf to call the company to a halt. Aragorn knew that once they had stopped, as had happened every night so far, Boromir would soon remove himself from the group, and sit alone, sulking in that incredibly sexy way of his, about something or other, and Aragorn would be left with the rest of the fellowship, cursing the fact that he was too much of a coward to approach the other man.

He lapsed into a complicated day dream involving Boromir, the Horn of Gondor, himself, and a throne. The throne he intended to get made just as soon as he was King. Just as soon as he was King and Boromir had accepted that fact. No, submitted to that fact. No, submitted to him, and...

"Dammit! Ow ow ow!"

The group spun to see the source of the noise, only to discover Aragorn lying face down in the dirt.This is what comes, he thought ruefully, of spending too much time watching the arse of the person in front of you, the incredibly tight arse of the person in front of you, the wonderfully wonderfully, well, the arse that belonged to Boromir in fact, and not watching where you were going. Stupid tree root.

" I fear you have fallen, my _King_," sneered Boromir, standing over the prostate figure of Aragorn sprawled on the path.

Aragorn scowled, and got up again, spitting the dirt from his mouth as he did so. Dismissing Boromir's comment he brushed past him, and continued to the head of the line where Gandalf was leading the company through the wood.

That, it seemed, was the end of Boromir-arse watching for the day.

Ignoring Aragorn stalking grumpily behind him, Gandalf brought the company towards a clearing that stood open, a little way off the path. It was fairly small, yet large enough to contain the whole Fellowship. On all sides it was surrounded by trees, whose long branches reached up and intertwined overhead so that the clearing was roofed by a green interlocked trellis of leaves. Gandalf inspected it closely, and appeared satisfied. "I fear that the hobbits grow weary with our travel, and here I deem, is as safe a place as any for us to wait out the night," he said, "It is best for us to stop now, before night comes upon us and we are unable to find a safer place. Also- "

He turned back now, to face the company arranged in single file behind him,

"-I have a blister on my foot, and it fucking hurts."

~

By the time darkness had completely descended and enveloped the forest in it's velvet gloom, the Fellowship had set up camp, and were resting, lying in their bedrolls, waiting for sleep to overcome them, and drive away their weariness.

Or, at least, some of them were.

Pippin rolled across to Merry, who was lying beside him, "Do you think that Boromir will do anything to night?" he whispered.

"Shussh!" Merry hissed, "I don't know, give him a chance. Anyway, we never told him he to _do_ anything, we just warned him in case Aragorn does anything. Boromir is hardly going to move right away now is he?"

"Why not?" Pippin grumbled, "I bet he's just as bored as we are. In fact he's probably even borderer."

And Pippin was right, Boromir thought as he listened to the hobbit's whispered conversation. He was bored. Looking up at the roof of the clearing, he suddenly felt hemmed in and claustrophobic. The Fellowship was nothing to him, and yet here he was, traveling towards an uncertain destiny, instead of returning to Gondor, his home and his people. Raising himself up on one arm he peered around at the rest of the company, all of whom appeared to be sleeping soundly. Even Merry and Pippin were now quiet, yet he had no doubt that they were watching him expectantly. He thought about his earlier conversation with Pippin. It had certainly been out of the blue, that was for sure. But he supposed it was an interesting theory. He peered across the bedrolls towards Aragorn, sleeping on the opposite side of the camp. The Ranger- in love with him? He shook his head- no, if that happened, it would be too funny for words.

Crawling out of his bedroll, he quietly made his way out of the clearing and back onto the path that they had been travelling upon that day. A little way down the track he came upon a small densely grown thicket of trees, yet he found, as he pushed through this outer barrier, that at the centre, the thicket stood open to the stars. The sight of the stars instantly gave him relief from the caged in feeling of the camp site, and he seated himself on the ground looking up at the sky. The same sky that he would be seeing, had he been standing on the parapets of the Tower of Ecthelion, with the white stone below him, and the banners of Gondor blowing in the nighttime breeze.

~

Aragorn watched silently as Boromir left the clearing, an extra shot at Boromir-arse watching he thought gleefully, but, all to soon it was over and Boromir- and his arse, had passed out of sight. Aragorn wondered where he was going. Perhaps he should find out? But then he thought back to the incident earlier that day. Damn, but the man hated him. It just wasn't fair, he thought, he was the King, or future King. People were supposed to love their Kings. That was what being King was all about wasn't it?

Obviously, the man was going to be a bit pissed that he, Aragorn, was really in a way taking away his inheritance. But this... this all-out hatred. This was resistance, this was. Something Aragorn had never encountered before. He could not let this man dismiss him so easily. No-one had ever turned him down before...

Except that girl in Bree who said she preferred men that washed, or that guy in Rohan, who said he preferred his horse. Aragorn shuddered, now that one had been scary.

But that wasn't the point. The point was that he desperately wanted Boromir, all of Boromir. He wanted his body (obviously), he wanted his heart, and at the same time he wanted his acceptance. To accept that Aragorn was King, and then submit to him.

Time for action then, he thought to himself, and a reason... why would I want to go following Boromir?, think of a reason Aragorn! think....

Leaning across to Gandalf who was, in fact, the only member of the fellowship who was truly asleep and not just pretending, he prodded him with a finger.

"Can I borrow some pipe weed?"

Gandalf woke and looked at him blearily.

"Wha?" he mumbled into his beard, "I don't have any left."

"Oh. That's a shame," Aragorn smiled brightly, "I'll just ask Boromir for some then."

He got up and left the clearing. In the next bedroll over Legolas looked up and watched him leave.Gandalf shook his head in confusion, "but Boromir doesn't smoke," he muttered.

Legolas smirked knowingly across at him, "No, he doesn't" he said.

Gandalf looked at him until suddenly realisation dawned in his face. " You haven't told Boromir about that bet that..."

Legolas nodded happily, "Yes we have." Gandalf groaned and stuck his head under the pillow, "I don't want to know" they heard his muffled voice say.

"The betting starts now!" Legolas exclaimed, and within seconds the remaining members of the company, excepting Gandalf, who stayed under his bedroll, were seated in a circle around Legolas as he earnestly started taking money.

~

The sound of snapping twigs startled Boromir out of his thoughts, and he spun round, hand reaching towards his sword, only to find himself face to face with Aragorn.

He stopped in and stared in surprise.

"Aragorn?"

Aragorn looked up from the branch that appeared to be trying to insert itself up his nose. "ah"' he said non commitally.

"What are you doing?"

" I was wondering if you had any pipe weed." Aragorn said.

"I don't smoke"

Boromir noticed a spasm of panic flash across Aragorn's face at his answer.

Fuck, Aragorn thought to himself, of course you don't. Dammit, dammit, dammit. But- within seconds he composed himself and came up with a new plan.

Boromir watched as Aragorn's expression changed to his '_I am Your King, You Will Swear me Your Allegiance'_ look. The one he seemed to reserve especially for Boromir.Then, brushing the offending branch from his nose Aragorn entered the thicket properly,"I did not deem that it was wise for the members of company to be wandering on their own. I noticed that you did not sleep and I came to see what had caused your fey mood." he answered him.

Boromir, now more than surprised, appraised him warily,'Is that so, _King_ of Gondor?' he said, before turning away and seating himself back down on the ground.

By Valar, thought Aragorn, he sounded so sexy when he said that. Although he knew that it was an insult, every time he heard him sneer it..._"King"... _it made him shiver, "_King"_, *shiver* "_King_" *shiver* "_King_" *shiver*, oh, wait, Boromir was talking again, back on task...

"I came to escape from the confines of your little Fellowship, and to think of the more important roads that I could have taken. Roads that would have led me back to where I was needed, and not off on some jaunt where my counsel is never taken, and I am used simply as baby-sitter to Halflings."

Damn thought Aragorn. He's really pissed with me. This is probably not a good time to confess my adoration. Yet he was there now, and he would hardly win Boromir over if he just disappeared again. This was his chance. He had to keep working on it. Shit but the man was hot when he was angry.

"Is that truly the way you feel?" he asked Boromir, seating himself down beside him. Close, but not too close...yet.

He looked over into Boromir's grey eyes, only to find them pools of danger, smouldering with anger and frustration, sucking him in.

"Why?" Boromir queried sarcastically, "Do you think that I have been treated otherwise? Do you think that I should, perchance, be _happy_ or maybe _honored_, that I have the opportunity to travel with the future King of Gondor- the dirty man of the Broken Sword?"

Ouch, that hurt, thought Aragorn to himself. Plus it wasn't broken any more anyway. It was fixed. He thought about informing Boromir that he had another sword, a sword that had never been broken, a sword that was incredibly portable, a sword that fitted nicely into the front of his pants, and then demonstrating his skill at using it and then...crap, he thought, got carried away again.

"Do you hate me that much Boromir, son of Denethor?

"I do not love you."

Damn the stubborn bastard, "I did not ask that."

"What would you have me say then?"

"I want you to speak plainly. For all the time that we have been together on this quest, never have you spoken your true thoughts."

"My, true thoughts? You would not want to know my true thoughts, _King_."

Once again, Boromir looked up at the sky, as if searching the stars for something that he could not find there in the thicket. No, he thought, you would not want to know my true thoughts. I do not want to know my true thoughts.

Aragorn spoke again and the voice distracted him.

"Yes I would. I would know your thoughts Boromir of Gondor. I would know your feelings and your moods if you would but let me."

Boromir turned his gaze away from the sky and looked back at Aragorn. The older man sat beside him, intently staring at his sword hilt. He looked... agitated. Why was he here? Had he come to taunt him, flaunt his claim to the throne again? Boromir did not understand Aragorn's purpose. Once again he considered the words that Pippin had spoken to him at lunch. He had agreed to be apart of the bet-_ if _Aragorn ever approached him, but never had he really believed that it would happen. Yet...

Aragorn was acting different. Could the hobbits have been right? Perhaps...perhaps now that he had the chance, he should test Pippin's theory. He looked at Aragorn again. It wasn't though he had never done it before, and Aragorn wasn't really too bad, in fact come to think of it... his eyes ran over Aragorn's craggy face, his scruffy, ragged stubble, his muscular chest, which, Boromir suddenly noticed, was covered only by a light shirt, a light shirt that was open rather invitingly at the neck, his powerful, sinuous, long legs...if only he wasn't such a bogan and a prat.

"Let you?" Boromir considered Aragorn some more, after all he _had_ given his word to the hobbit, and a Man of Gondor has his honour...and Pippin had seemed so enamoured with the idea, "will you look at me so that I may understand what lies beneath these strange words of yours?" he asked

Aragorn turned his head and looked into Boromir's eyes again and in one instant they swallowed him whole, he was sucked into a mesmerizing greyness that searched his very soul.

Fuck, he thought, I may have slightly underestimated the situation...

Boromir grinned inwardly. This was a surprise, the hobbits had been right after all, it was hard to believe but he could see now, he could see Aragorn's desire. Idly he wondered what the bets would be. Oh well, he'd ask Pippin later. But for now, yes. This would be fun.

"Maybe I will let you know them, if you feel that you are strong enough to bear them, Aragorn son of Arathorn."

He pushed Aragorn over with a challenging sneer, and with one deft movement grabbed him round the neck and kissed him with such ferocity and such passion that Aragorn almost felt left behind.

After fully exploring the inside of Aragorn's mouth with his tongue he pulled away, and turned once again to the stars.

"You may go now _King_. You have seen the answer to your questions."

Aragorn ignored him, yet at the same time he was worried. He hadn't expected to find Boromir quite so controlling. Clearly the man was not new to this sort of pastime. Although, at least he was willing, that was one problem overcome. But, damn, he would have to work harder if he was going to get him to submit. If he was going to take that seductive and arrogant body and prove that there was only room for one King here...

"Do you presume that one answer would be all it takes to satisfy me?"

In his turn he ran his hand lightly up Boromir's back and encircled his waist in his arm. Leaning forward he kissed the man in front of him, delicately and deeply. Probing and caressing the other man's tongue with his own.

And then it was Boromir's turn to be worried. He broke away, he had felt experience in that kiss. This was unexpected, the hobbit's had never warned him that...but maybe they didn't know. Suddenly he realised he knew nothing of the ranger's past either, or even where his feelings might lie in matters like these. He realised that he did not know what wealth of experience may lie hidden within this man's heart. This was going to be a bigger challenge than he had thought.

"What? Can you not take it Boromir?"

"Have you done this before, Aragorn?" Boromir asked quietly.

"No"

The look of guilt that flashed across Aragorn's features was quickly replaced with shock and horror at such a suggestion.

Boromir looked at Aragorn with an unreadable expression on his face. Ahh, he thought, someone is not quite up to coming out of the closet yet. Never mind, two could play at that game.

"No? ...neither have I."

Boromir looked challengingly at Aragorn even as he said it.

"I have never done this before." Clear and pure were his eyes, grey as the sky in the winter over the White Mountains, daring Aragorn to defy the statement, but Aragorn stayed silent.

Again he took Aragorn up and kissed him, delving deep into the Ranger's mouth, tracing edges of his lips with his tongue and caressing the stubble of Aragorn's chin with his fingertips. Kissing him again and again, as though he would never get enough, his hands reaching further and further down Aragorn's body, until they felt his belt buckle and begin untying the knot of his belt.

This time it was Aragorn who broke away.

"You move fast Man of Gondor."

"I have learnt that to move faster is to live longer. Does a Ranger, perchance, see differently?" Boromir questioned him, but he did not stop untying the belt.

"Yes" answered Aragorn, "I find that to use caution and wait is sometimes better counsel."

"You will not counsel me, my _King"_ Boromir proclaimed, and with that he he undid the belt, and pulling it from the belt hooks he took down Aragorn's pants.

~

The camp was currently split by three different opinions on the outcome of the night. Legolas had placed his money on the probability that neither of the men would return until morning, while the hobbits all had Aragorn as odds on favourite for having an angst fit and walking out. Gandalf, who had eventually been coaxed out of the bed clothes by twenty to one odds, and Gimli, were both backing Boromir as the first one back to camp.

Suddenly the silence of the night was broken by the sound of exploding laughter. In the quiet campsite it sounded very loud, and unexpected, and the gamblers started in surprise. Merry looked across at Legolas, "Umm, isn't that Boromir?" he asked.

Legolas peered in the direction in which the two men had taken, "Y'know, I believe it is,' he murmured, "and I believe that that may change the odds somewhat."

Then turning back to the betting circle, he spread out his arms and proclaimed, " I am now putting Aragorn as the odds on favourite to be first back at camp. If you wish to place new bets please place them now."

Gimli shook his head in disgust, "Oh no," he grumbled, "you will not cheat me, Elf. My bet stays, Boromir will not take it I say. Boromir will be back here within the hour."

Gandalf nodded his head in agreement, "My bets hold too, I stay with master Dwarf, I don't know why he laughed, but Boromir is too angry at Aragorn to let him in, regardless of how much Aragorn tries. Aragorn is too forceful when it comes to sex. He always has to be in control. You always have to submit to him."

The company suddenly went very quiet.

"I mean- that is what I've _heard_. I've _heard_ that that is what he is like. I've _heard_ that he is very controlling." Gandalf suddenly became very interested in one of the threads that was unraveling from his hat.

" Err...right." Legolas concentrated on the betting. "You're on" he said, "what about you Merry? are you in, or are you changing?"

Merry thought for a moment, Gandalf's words had just put some very scary images into his mind. Eventually he replied, " I'm with you Legolas, I'd say that laugh changes things. I'm putting my money the two of them staying out the night."

Pippin shook his head, "I was the only one that saw Boromir's reaction when I told him how much Aragorn had been watching him, he didn't believe me, but he wasn't angry, I'd say he was curious." Pippin stopped to consider," I can't see him walking out at all. I still say it will be Aragorn who comes back first. I think, that with Boromir, he's in way over his head."

Legolas looked at Sam and Frodo, "bets in boys..." he said.

"Stop," Sam broke in, "before I put down more money I want to be sure that Boromir will hold true. How do we know that he isn't telling Aragorn all about the bet right at this instant."

"Do you doubt Boromir?," asked Pippin in disbelief.

"Yes", answered Sam, "Yes I do. Boromir has been giving Mr Frodo some very queer looks lately and I don't like it."

"But Sam," said Merry, looking quzzically at him, "you give Frodo queer looks all the time."

"That's different," muttered Sam defensively, "anyway, I still don't trust him. I think we ought send someone to watch them, make sure that Boromir isn't betraying us."

Pippin and Merry looked at each other, sudden excitement lighting up their eyes, and in an instant they were gone, scrambling quietly through the trees in the direction of Boromir's laugh.

"Damn", muttered Gandalf as they disappeared. "I was going to volunteer for that job."

~

** part two**

  
  



	2. part two

**a boys night at the betting ring**

** part two**

Back in the thicket Aragorn was staring accusingly at Boromir.

"What, may I ask, is so funny?" he demanded.

Boromir struggled unsuccessfully to control his laughter. He waved his hand in the general direction of Aragorn's cock, in a gesture that could possibly have been a point if he hadn't been shaking so much with laughter.

"By the Tower of Ecthelion", he managed to gasp out finally,"...it's so small!"

Aragorn glared at him ferociously and went to draw his sword. Remembering too late that his sword was still attached to his pants, which were at this moment half way down his legs, he merely succeeded in gracefully collapsing on his arse on the ground. Unfortunately this did nothing to stem Boromir's amusement.

"I fear you have fallen,my _King_,' he stated.

Aragorn glowered at Boromir as the memory of his fall earlier that day came back to him. Now that he thought about it, maybe this wasn't such a great idea. This man was obviously just a prat. A prat with a great arse but a prat just the same. Yet if he went now, he would have lost, and that was not going to happen. Kings- did not lose- to Stewards- ever.

Boromir smirked at Aragorn lying on the ground. "Do you need assistance, my Liege?" he asked him.

"No, I do not." Aragorn struggled up. His pants appeared to be quite firmly tangled and he was less successful in his endeavors than he had hoped to be. However, this was no time to get angry, getting angry just confused things. It was time to utilise all the temper control that Arwen had been teaching him. Oh shit, he suddenly thought, Arwen...oh well, he dismissed the worry. What she didn't know, wouldn't hurt her. Plus, this was about a man's honour, this was.

He looked at Boromir expectantly. "Well then.."

Boromir was startled. Why wasn't Aragorn mad? From the earlier look Aragorn had given him, he thought he'd really struck a nerve. But now the man before him was calm, and appeared to be waiting for something. Then he realised. Aragorn doesn't believe me, he though incredulously, he doesn't believe what I said about his dick.

"Well then indeed..."

He grabbed Aragorn's hand and guided it down to his own bulge of manhood, which he noticed was beginning to rise to the occasion. Boromir grinned. Now they would see who was King. He pushed Aragorn's fingers hard up against the fabric of his tunic.

"Do you feel it my Liege?" he asked

Aragorn recoiled as though he'd just stepped on a hobbit. He had a sudden feeling of insecurity, that bulge- it had felt huge. But then the moment of panic passed. No, it couldn't be, this had to be some trick. Appraising the man before him in the gloom, he stopped to consider, extra socks perhaps. No, socks were too soft. Had Boromir pulled some trick with the Horn of Gondor?

Aragorn narrowed his eyes, if it was, that was a dirty, cheap thing to do. But there was the Horn lying on the ground near Boromir's foot. So it couldn't have been the Horn. Had Boromir stolen some of Sam's cooking utensils to stick down his pants? That was probably unlikely, Sam wouldn't let his cooking utensils out of his sight.

Maybe...he noted the chain mail sleeves, showing from under Boromir's tunic- chain mail under wear perhaps? Was that what had made it feel so big? Damn, what was it? He had to see.

Aragorn reached a tentative hand out to Boromir's belt buckle.

"Yes?" said Boromir questioningly, "would you perhaps, like to see it a little closer?"

Aragorn shut his eyes in frustration. Boromir was so...just...bloody...damn annoying and sarcastic and confident and sardonic and...hot and sexy and desirable and...bah! He and grabbed Boromir's tunic in both hands. Frantically he began tearing at the fastenings, he had to get it off, he had to know just what had made that bulge.

~

Merry and Pippin reached the edge of the thicket and peered through the trees, "they're in there" Merry hissed. Pippin nodded, "I know," he mouthed back, then few moments later, "wow, look at Aragorn go."

"He _has_ done this before" observed Merry, sounding surprised.

"Mmhm," Pippin turned to look at his cousin, "didn't Legolas tell you?"

"Tell me what? I mean I heard Gandalf-," Merry gave in involuntary shudder,"but I didn't hear Legolas say anything."

"Oh...well, you know," Pippin trailed off vaguely. But before Merry could question him further, they heard a groan from inside the thicket.

It seemed that Aragorn had finally succeeded in removing enough of Boromir's clothing to look upon the desired object. He sat, cross legged between Boromir's knees, staring in disbelief, as if he'd just seen Gollum present Elrond with a bouquet of pink flowers. "In the name of Elbereth," they heard him murmur, "that's bigger than..."

Aragorn couldn't tear his eyes away, he couldn't believe it. Desire hit him like a group of Orcs running across his chest. He couldn't breathe. He needed to take it, and he needed to take it now. Not even jealousy could overthrow his insatiable desire, although jealous he was, for it was bigger than his, oh so much so, and so much grander and straighter and firmer and ... but there was time to be jealous later.

For now...

Boromir looked down at the Ranger kneeling between his legs. Now this was a compromising position, he thought. It wasn't exactly what he had planned when he had initially left the camp to sit in the thicket on his own, however, after a brief thought he decided it certainly wasn't bad. Plus for someone who claimed they'd never been there before, Aragorn seemed to have things fairly well worked out.

Aragorn's tongue running down the length of his member broke his thoughts and he moaned in pleasure. The sound made Aragorn redouble his efforts. Up and down he went, and then up and down again, as Boromir became harder and harder. Slowly he brought his tongue back down again, and took the top of Boromir's shaft in his mouth, sucking at it flirtatiously. Boromir bit back a gasp of pleasure. Clearly this Ranger had learnt a lot on his travels. But not enough to rival the talents of a Gondorian Steward.

Hmm, he mused, what we need here is a bit more excitement. In one sudden movement, he brought his legs around behind Aragorn and caught him between his thighs, squeezing him hard. It's amazing what you can learn from evil James Bond chicks, he thought to himself.

Aragorn looked up in surprise, but before he could say a word Boromir had his tongue inside his mouth again, controlling and dark, and then Boromir's fingers were tracing their way down his chest, tweaking and fondling at his nipples, reaching up inside his shirt and marking tattoos of ownership all the way down his back, until they encircled his buttocks and came up against his cock, where they stopped. Aragorn groaned in frustration, and gripped Boromir's upper arms with his hands.

"Don't stop!" He looked despairingly into Boromir's eyes, those deep, grey eyes. Eyes that could drown you in their stormy depths and smother you with an avalanche of emotion so that you were never seen again, or like now, eyes that could be dark and challenging, daring you to refuse their will.

"Would you try to to order me, Lord Aragorn?"

Aragorn said nothing but gripped Boromir's shoulders harder, pleading silently for Boromir to continue his attentions. Boromir waited for a few more long seconds, testing Aragorn's will. Suddenly he grabbed on to Aragorn's member with his hand and gave a short tug. Aragorn gave a gasp, and then cried out in pleasure as the tugs became firmer and more rhythmic. He cried out again, and then suddenly, the tugging stopped and the hands were back on his chest, stroking and kneading at his muscles, and his cock was enveloped in warm wetness, as Boromir took it into his mouth nibbling it softly with his teeth, and then sucking as though he were trying to swallow it whole.

~

"Boromir is pretty good too" Merry observed suddenly, " but I guess I kind of expected that. I always figured he was much too sulky to be straight."

"It's all that manly warrior comrade-ing type stuff," stated Pippin," that's why he's so good. He's been doing it for _years._"

"How do you know?" Merry asked.

"Legolas told me."

Merry looked at Pippin curiously, "how does _Legolas_ know all this?"

"We Elves are in tune with these things y'know" The hobbits spun round to find Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf, arranged in the darkness behind them.

"Why are you here?" asked Pippin.

Legolas grinned at them, "Sam decided that he didn't trust you two either, and so he sent us to check on you."

"And you left Sam in the camp alone?" Merry queried.

"Nah- Frodo is with him" Legolas answered.

"You left Frodo and Sam in the camp alone?" Merry queried again.

"Yeah" said Legolas.

Frodo and Sam"

"Yeah"

"Alone"

"Yeah"

"Ah" Merry looked at Legolas.

"Oh" said Legolas, "whoops."

"Someone go and stop them before they use up all the carrots again." Gandalf sighed.

A loud gasp was suddenly heard from inside the thicket and suddenly all worries about the Fellowship's stock of carrots was forgotten as Gandalf, Gimli and Legolas shoved in beside the two hobbits to get a better look at the activities of the two men.

"Oh my," Gandalf said wonderingly," Boromir is really quite prominent, isn't he."

"I don't know," said Pippin grumpily, "I can't see now, I've got your hat in my face."

Gandalf dismissed Pippin's comment, and peered closer, "what's he doing now?"

"Oh that's _good _y'know," said Legolas, watching in awe. The watchers could quite clearly hear Aragorn's gasps of pleasure. 

" I can't see!" Pippin gave Legolas a shove and nearly sent the Elf flying in to join the two men.

"Fool of a Took!" hissed Gandalf at him, "are you trying to ruin the entertainment for everyone?" Pippin merely pouted at him, and settled himself comfortably in the spot that Legolas had recently vacated.

"Wow, look at that!" Now that Pippin could see again, he was riveted to the scene playing out before him. His eyes grew bigger and bigger,"I didn't know you could that!"

"Do what? Do what?" whispered Legolas, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of the activities in the thicket.

"Well..." said Pippin, "Aragorn was sitting down, and then Boromir pushed him over like that..." He demonstrated a complicated gesture with his hands, "and then Boromir did this thing with his mouth and Aragorn's cock like this..." He again he attempted to demonstrate another complicated procedure. Legolas looked at the hobbit, as far as he could work out from Pippin's hand signals, Aragorn had just shown Boromir how to catch a fish and then they'd both sat down and eaten it with chopsticks. Or perhaps they'd decided to knit it. It definitely seemed to have involved elbows anyway.

Another moan came from the thicket. "Why haven't you ever shown me anything like that Merry?" Pippin asked his cousin accusingly.

Legolas decided that he was not impressed with his current view, which consisted of a lot of Dwarf beard and half a hobbit foot, so he gained a new spot in the trees by pushing Gimli under a bush. This caused a brief scuffle as Gimli, who couldn't see anything under from the bush attempted to forcibly remove Merry from his position.

"You should all go back," Pippin pouted, "there's not enough room for every one, and Merry and me were here first."

"That's true," agreed Merry, emerging victorious over Gimli in the seating battle, "and don't forget that someone needs to save the carrots, 'cos we don't have many left and Sam's really experimental when it comes to Frodo and vegetables."

"We taught him though" broke in Pippin proudly,"didn't we Merry?"

"Pippin!"

"But Merry, he didn't know _anything_, and so we took him down to farmer Maggots fields that time, him and Frodo remember, and we showed him that trick you can do with cucumbers, and he was so excited that he wanted to try it out with Frodo right away, but then farmer Maggot's dogs heard us an' we all had to sprint for it."

"Pippin!"

"And he didn't even know about corn cobs, or zucchini either. I mean you and me had been using them for _years_."

"Hobbits really are amazing creatures." observed Gimli, " you an learn all there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years they can still surprise you at a pinch."

"Hey," protested Gandalf,"that's my line!"

"But you already know what you can do with a couple of hobbits and some vegetables, Gandalf. It's hardly a surprise to you." stated Legolas.

"Legolas Greenleaf! What are you suggesting!" exclaimed Gandalf poking the Elf with his staff.

"Ow!" complained Legolas loudly."You know exactly what I mean!, you and the Ringbe- "

But before he could finish the sentence Gimli roughly shoved a hand over his mouth. "Shut up!" he hissed frantically in the Elf's ear. But it was too late. The men had heard the arguments and stopped their activities, listening warily.

"Go...go!" Merry mouthed silently at Gandalf and flapped a hand in the direction of the campsite. Gandalf shot him a death glare, but reluctantly he, Gimli and Legolas left to save the Fellowship's supply of carrots from Sam and Frodo.

"Remember this," Gimli whispered back over his shoulder grumpily," when next time Sam decides to makes his famous carrot cake, you'll be thanking us."

~

The leaves rustled overhead as the men lay together in the thicket. Both were quiet now, listening tensely. Silence descended over the wood. The exertions were at a momentary halt.

Merry and Pippin held their breath, watching intently. It was very quiet.

Slowly the men relaxed and, deciding that they were still safe, picked up where they had left off.

Boromir lay crosswise, over Aragorn's chest, idly stroking Aragorn's erect member, running his finger up it's length, massaging the top in slow circles and then running his finger back down again. Suddenly he broke the silence.

"Do you have any lube?"

Aragorn looked at him warily, "ahh, no. Why would I?"

Dammit, why was Aragorn still playing innocent. Boromir took his hand away from Aragorn's cock and propped himself on his chin sulking. If Aragorn was having issues then that was that, he thought, looking off through the trees. He wasn't going to play any more.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Aragorn spoke again.

"Legolas has some."

Boromir turned back to Aragorn with an amused look on his face.

"And how do you know that, pray?"

"I saw it fall out of his pack...one time." Aragorn answered. A flicker of guilt flew cross his face."When we were walking...one time"

"Oh"

Eager to get away from Boromir's accusing stare Aragorn leapt up hurriedly.

"I'll go borrow it."

Boromir watched him reach the edge of the thicket before calling out to the Ranger, "My Lord?"

Aragorn stopped and turned around. Boromir pointed a finger at a dark heap lying on the ground.

"I believe that your pants may be of assistance."

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the sky through the branches of the trees, while the Ranger attempted to hastily pull his pants up over his swollen cock, and stumbled off into the trees.

~

"Quick" Merry hissed at Pippin, " we've got to warn the others!"

"But he'll beat us there!" Pippin exclaimed.

Merry dismissed him, "No he won't, he still has to pull his pants up properly, come on" They both scrambled back through the bushes in the direction of the main camp.

Approaching it, they heard the tail end of a Gandalf lecture.

" -carrots are provided for the health and well-being of all the members of the Fellowship and are not for your private use alone Samwise Gamgee, nor yours Frodo Baggins. I want you both to understand this."

"I was making vegetable soup!" exclaimed Sam hotly.

"Under your blankets?" Gandalf raised his hairy eyebrows in his best Elrond impression. Sam was silent.

Suddenly Frodo jumped to the defence, " it was the Eye!"

"The eye?" repeated Gandalf.

"Yes" answered Frodo, "Boromir said, that there was a great Eye, that watched you and was _all-seeing_ so.."

"Yes Sir, he did Sir," broke in Sam, who had rediscovered his voice all of a sudden, "at the council meeting, and I thought then I did, that if ever I was to make vegetable soup, I'd best not let the eye see me, for like as not, it would want some."

"Sam makes very good vegetable soup." asserted Frodo.

"Like the old Gaffer used to say, 'twas the best vegetable soup in the Shire. And I thought it best that I hide it under the blankets, as I'm sure that those black riders would be right glad to have a taste of vegetable soup inside them, they don't look as though have had aught to eat for many a while."

But before Gandalf could pursue this line of enquiry, Merry and Pippin arrived in the clearing.

"Quick, hide the money! Aragorn's coming back!" Pippin gestured wildly in the direction of the thicket.

"What?" asked Gimli confused, "already?'

"You mean I won?" asked Sam in disbelief, completely forgetting about the carrot incident.

"You mean I lost?" asked Legolas in disbelief, completely forgetting about the french-braid he had been putting in Gimli's beard.

"No, no" Merry shook his head emphatically. "The bet's still on, he's just coming back because..." he looked at Legolas,"he appears to think that you might have some lube that he can borrow, Legolas."

"...err...right" he mumbled.

The camp turned to stare at Legolas accusingly.

He looked around and then smiled at them brightly. "I'll just pretend to be asleep than shall I?", and within seconds he had transformed himself into a curled up ball of long blonde hair and pastel green elven miniskirt which emitted false snores at regular intervals.

The company stared at him silently, until suddenly the sound of the Ranger approaching through the bushes on his way back to camp galvanized them into action, and dismissing Legolas from their thoughts for the moment, they dived for their own bedrolls.

~

Aragorn stood at the edge of the clearing quietly. Good, they all appeared to be asleep, and Legolas, well the strange lumpy shaped ball that he assumed was Legolas, was sleeping right on the outskirts of the group. He crept silently over to the misshaped hump and poked it with a finger. The ball uncurled, and lo and behold, it _was_ Legolas. Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief.

"Aragorn?" asked the Elf quietly, "what's going on?"

Aragorn put his finger to his lips and beckoned for the Elf to move away from the other members of the company.

Peeking out from underneath his blanket Pippin saw them leave. He strained desperately to hear the rest of the conversation but it was no use, they were speaking much to softly, although Aragorn did seem to be acting very embarrassed about something. There was a lot of violent head shaking going on. Soon though, the Elf came back and started to rummage in his pack, before bringing out a small tub and handing it out to Aragorn. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what this is for, Aragorn?" he asked him curiously.

Pippin could hear the conversation now.

Aragorn grabbed the tub, "I already said- I need it to oil my sword."

Legolas nodded at him, and watched the Ranger sprint out of the campsite. Within seconds the 'sleeping' Fellowship members were scrambling out of their blankets, ready to continue the night's betting.

~

Aragorn crashed back to the thicket grumbling. " Bloody nosy Elf" he muttered, "has to know everything, just 'cos he's an ex-lov..." He shut-up suddenly as he realised that he'd reached the edge of the thicket. He pushed through the trees and proudly presented the tub to Boromir.

"It seems that our fair Elf is nicer than I had deemed" he said thoughtfully, "unless he only gives such generous favors to dirty Rangers?"

Aragorn blushed in the darkness. Damn, the man was bloody ungrateful.

"Do you want it or not?" he said angrily.

He made as if to turn around and take the tub back in the direction of the campsite, but Boromir grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him down. For the second time that night, and the third time that day, Aragorn found himself suddenly, and unexpectedly, on the ground. Crawling across Aragorn's chest Boromir reached out and pinned down his arms. Leaning his mouth close to Aragorn's ear he whispered huskily, "but then again, maybe I'm just not as our pretty elven prince."

~

** part three**


	3. part three

**a boys night at the betting ring**

**part three**

  
"No, that does not mean the bet has finished" reiterated Legolas firmly. "Aragorn hasn't finished yet. You saw him, he's going back."

  
"But I wagered that Strider would come back first, and he did. You never said anythin' about how long he had to stay!" complained Sam, "me and Master Frodo and Pippin have won that money fair as fair."

  
"Overruled!" proclaimed Gandalf, who was less than eager to lose his money to Sam, Frodo and Pippin, and preferred the idea of continuing the bet until such time as he had won. "The bet goes on. And now that we're all finally satisfied that the bet will continue..." Gandalf paused and glanced at Sam, who scowled back at him, but said nothing, "I would like to up my wager". Digging into his hat, he took out a handful of coins and handed them over to Legolas.

"There you go Mister Bookkeeper. I maintain my bet that Boromir will not be able to take the heat."

  
Legolas took the money and grinned. "What? No way mate, that lube is going places. Those two are going to be going for it all night y'know."

  
At the mention of the lube, Merry turned and prodded Legolas accusingly. "Why didn't you tell us you had lube?" he pointedly, "are you holding back information that could influence the odds?"

  
"That's quite a point you've got there young Mister Brandybuck," said Gandalf, glaring at the Elf, "do you have inside information, Legolas?"

  
Legolas suddenly looked uncomfortable, "No!" he said defensively.

  
"Indeed?" broke in Gimli grumpily, "Well, why didn't you bring it out when you and me...um that time when um...anyway" he trailed off.

  
There was another distinct silence.

  
"When you what?" asked Pippin.

  
Gimli mumbled something inaudible.

  
" I use that oil to shine my hair," exclaimed Legolas suddenly.

  
"That's right!" asserted Gimli, "So do I."

  
The gamblers looked curiously at Gimli, and then at his overgrown, wiry, red hair, and then his overgrown, wiry, red moustache, then his overgrown, wiry, red beard.

Then they all turned to look at the long, soft, silky, golden locks of the Elf.

  
"Why doesn't anybody here believe that a Dwarf might pay attention to his looks," Gimli declared. "Dwarfs have feelings too I'll have you know." He shot the Fellowship members an injured glance and went off to sit in the corner of the clearing on his own, mumbling about sex-starved wizards, selfishly lewd elves and promiscuous, prurient hobbits who wouldn't understand what it was like being a Dwarf even if it was written on a magic ring and hung round their necks.

  
The gamblers watched him go. "Anyway," said Merry, "me and Pippin better get back to make sure that Boromir doesn't tell, since Sam doesn't trust him an' all."

  
"Oh no you don't!" exclaimed Gandalf, grabbing Merry by the scruff off the neck before he could make off into the bushes. "Give someone else a turn!"

He dumped Merry unceremoniously on Boromir's empty bedroll, gripped Legolas by the ear, and strode purposefully towards the thicket. "It's time to give your elders a chance" he called back over his shoulder.

  
~

  
"That's not fair!" Pippin pouted, "why can't we go too. It's boring here."

  
"I agree," said Gimli, returning from his corner to join the group of hobbits who were left behind after the rapid departure of Gandalf and Legolas. "Why don't we just go ourselves. If we stay on the other side of the thicket, Gandalf and Legolas won't even know we're there."

  
Merry and Pippin brightened up visibly at this suggestion. Sam however, looked worried, "I don't know about that. I think someone should guard the camp. I'll stay here with Mister Frodo."

  
Merry, Pippin and Gimli looked at him, then at Frodo, then at the carrot that Frodo was hiding behind his back. "No!" they said simultaneously.

  
~

  
Boromir placed his whole weight on Aragorn's muscled torso, and pushed him down, gripping Aragorn's wrists firmly, he angled the Ranger's arms out above his head so that he lay spread-eagled on the ground. He looked down at the Ranger below him.

  
"I fear, Lord Aragorn," Boromir stated, "that you will find Elvish Princes rather easier to conquer than Ruling Stewards."

  
"Not yet, are you the Ruling Steward," Aragorn gasped as Boromir's tongue traced patterns down his chest. He struggled against Boromir's hold on his wrists, but the younger man was heavier-set than the Ranger, and Aragorn could not pull free.

  
"Ahh, but you are not yet the King either, my Liege" answered Boromir derisively.

  
His tongue moved down towards Aragorn's abdomen and Aragorn could feel Boromir's warm breath, burning a trail of heat down his torso. As he reached Aragorn's firm member, Boromir let go of Aragorn's wrists, and took hold of his shaft with both hands, teasing it with practiced ease. Aragorn gasped and arched his back off the ground in pleasure.

  
Boromir slid his hands under Aragorn's arse and his strong fingers made exploratory progress towards the puckered entrance between Aragorn's cheeks. Sensuously, his fingers investigated the entrance. Aragorn groaned again. Abruptly all coherent thought ceased to function. His mind filled with visions of snow falling on far distant mountain peaks, sun beams breaking through silent forests and the passage of time fast forwarding across the land, so that before the radiant colours of the sunrise had completely faded new colours were streaming across the skies as the sun began to set. There were floating flower petals, delicate dewdrops, and innocent bunnies frolicking merrily through the fields, old men with pointy hats and long grey beards...ahhh no, umm, that is... well... any way, back to the happy little bunnies....Bunnies, he thought, what joyful little bunnies.

  
"Take me!" he gasped to Boromir. "Now!"

  
Boromir grinned at him, and took his hands away from Aragorn's entrance. Aragorn groaned in protest, but Boromir placed a finger enticingly on Aragorn's lips, silencing him.

  
"Is that a kingly thing to say, my Lord?" he asked.

Aragorn nearly screamed with frustration, his loins were on fire, throbbing and inflamed with desire, and now this man was taunting him with questions. Boromir poked his finger into Aragorn's mouth temptingly, "I have warned you already against ordering me, Lord Aragorn. Will you not apologise?"

  
Aragorn tried to think, vainly he tried to remember why he was there, why he shouldn't apologise, but it was hard to concentrate when there were still bunnies insistantly running through the grass, and someone appeared to have a finger in your mouth. All memories of his plan to force the Steward's submissal to him were forgotten.

  
Boromir buried his other hand into Aragorn's hair, running the dark locks through his fingers. Sweat dripped from Aragorn's forehead, and he gave up trying to think.

"Yes, yes, anyhting you say Boromir" he mumbled, attempting to talk around the finger that was enticingly exploring his mouth and tongue.

  
"No," said Boromir, "you have to apologise properly."

  
"I apologise!" cried Aragorn in desperation.

  
"That's better."

  
Boromir withdrew his finger from Aragorn's mouth and began lubricating his hands liberally with the sweet smelling oil Legolas had lent them. Then sliding his slippery fingers around Aragorn's thighs, he lifted the Ranger's hips from the ground, and began to spread it lavishly around his entrance. Aragorn sighed as the cool ointment brought relief to the fire and passion overtaking his body.

Slowly, Boromir inserted his finger into the warm dark cleft between Aragorn's cheeks, Aragorn tensed instinctively at the intrusion, but then forced himself to relax, more bunnies appeared, pink bunnies with little hats, hats with bows...he moaned. Boromir withdrew his finger, and judging that Aragorn was now ready inserted two fingers. Again Aragorn moaned, and felt the tears form in the corners of his eyes. Orchestral background music filled his ears. "Now" he whispered hoarsely, "now!"

  
" What was that?" Boromir asked him.

  
"Please" Aragorn added desperately.

Boromir moved up against Aragorn's pelvis and thrust his own swollen member deep into Aragorn's body. Aragorn jerked at the sudden intrusion and clenched with the pain, but Boromir pushed harder, and abruptly all of Aragorn's control ceased to function, the pink bunnies began to leaping across the fields like elves on amphetamines, and he cried out in rapture.

Boromir thrust again, and again, until they were both involved in a rhythmic dance, undulating against one another. Deeper and deeper, reaching for the secret spot each time, knowing exactly where to hit it so that Aragorn nearly fainted with pleasure. His heaving plunges got more and more frantic as his climax got closer and closer, until suddenly Boromir felt his member swell to breaking point, and he exploded, shooting his seed deep inside Aragorn with a shuddering gasp.

Aragorn gave a moan as Boromir pulled out of him, but it was quickly stifled as Boromir then took Aragorn's shaft in his hands, and with a skilful deftness brought Aargorn to the zenith of ecstasy. Within moments, Aragorn felt his own climax surging through his cock, and helpless against the Steward's teasing fingers, he released it with abandon, spreading the sticky substance all over Boromir's hands.

  
~

The two watchers in the thicket gazed on in amazement.

  
"Aragorn never let me do that to him," exclaimed Gandalf and Legolas together.

  
There was a sudden pause.

  
"Ahem" said Gandalf, investigating a piece of twig intently, and moving slightly farther away from the Elf.

  
"Y'know, that was possibly more information than was necessary" said Legolas, investigating a dead leaf intently, and moving slightly farther away from the wizard.

There was another pause.

Finally Legolas broke the silence. "Um, I think we could get a better view from over there, y'know." He pointed to a bush slightly to the left of their current position.

Gandalf nodded in assent, and, still keeping an uncomfortable distance from one another, they moved quietly to the new location.

  
~

  
The Ranger flopped down on the ground, panting with exhaustion, Boromir collapsing beside him. Staring up at the stars, Aragorn's mindless ecstasy slowly began to abate, the bunnies disappeared, as did the orchestral background music, and the accelerated sunsets. Suddenly he realised that he had forgotten why he was there. Because of Boromir's arse, he thought to himself, then he stopped, puzzled; no- there had been something else....

  
Unexpectedly it hit him. With a force like a dead dwarf falling on his head, he remembered. Of course! He was supposed to be soliciting Boromir's submissal to his Kingship, forcing Boromir to accept his claim to the throne (while at the same time, of course, impressing him with his prowess at using his...er...sword, on the...er...battlefield).

  
Oh shit! he thought, considering the recent exertions. Completely overwhelmed by desire, he had been practically begging for Boromir to take him. He _had_ been begging for Boromir to take him. By the Valar, he thought, it was so unfair. How could this man, this Steward, cause such rampaging hunger to go flooding through his veins? How was he supposed to exert his Kingship when he was dominated by an unquenchable craving, an unstoppable need to...He shut his eyes in frustration. It was all too confusing. He pulled himself together. The point was, he, Aragorn bearerofthestarofthenorthcaptainofthehostofthewestchieftainofthedúnedainofarnorthe dúnadanelessarofthelineofvalandiltheelfstoneestelevinyatartherenewerheirtothethrone ofgondorkingofthewestlongshanksstridertelcontarthorongilwielderoftheswordreforged wingfoot son of Arathorn, was the descendant of Isildur, and no Steward- however sexy, and erotically arousing, and gorgeous, and...his thoughts were broken by an unexpected tweak on his cock...no Steward was going to...there was a more insistent tweak on his cock...no Steward was going to resist him.

He looked down to see Boromir teasing his member with his teeth.

  
This steward was insolent, he decided. It was now time to take control of this situation.

  
"Boromir...? Why don't you roll over? Now."

  
Boromir looked up at him, a slow sardonic smile creeping across his face. "You wish me to roll over, my King? I do not think that you should presume so much."

  
Ahh fuck! Why was Boromir always so defiant? He couldn't let him dismiss his authority like this! This was insubordination this was. He reached forward so that he could reach a hand up behind Boromir's buttocks, reaching his fingers towards the coveted opening between the bum cheeks.

  
Boromir continued to play with Aragorn's member, watching the Ranger out of the corner of one eye. Casually, he stopped his tonguing. "It appears to me," he said as he glanced at the Ranger, "that you could be begging for me to roll over, just so that you can flaunt your authority as King. Would that be true, Lord Aragorn?"

  
He took Aragorn's cock back into his mouth and Aragorn's senses drowned in waves of lust. He tried to concentrate; maybe he should try a more direct approach.

  
"Boromir," he moaned, "swear yourself to me."

  
"Say that again, my Liege," threatened Boromir," and I'll bite you."

  
Aragorn shut up abruptly. Perhaps attempting to force Boromir into submissal while he had his shaft in his mouth, wasn't really the safest idea. He did not want to have to ask Elrond to fix another of his swords. Particularly this one, since it was his favourite after all. Besides, it was quite possible that if Boromir did actually bite it, then this sword may prove beyond even the ability of the Elves to fix.

While he was considering this unpleasant eventuality, Boromir got up and began to walk over to a dark lump on the ground which, on closer inspection, appeared to be one of his boots.

  
Damn, he was leaving, thought Aragorn with frustration. But this Ranger would not be discouraged yet! Perhaps now was the time to make an appeal to the heart, and lay his real desires out in the open?

  
"Aahh, Boromir?" Aragorn said softly as he moved away.

  
Boromir turned around to face Aragorn. "Yes?"

  
"Will your ever accept me as your king?"

That was it, the big question. All Boromir had to do was say yes, and this bliss that they had just experienced would go on forever. There would be no confusion in their lovemaking. No striving for control. Aragorn would have the Steward's alluring, luscious, ravishing, awe-inspiring body, all to himself, and the good Steward would accept Aragorn's position, and do away with his subordinate attitude. Boromir would belong to Aragorn, forever and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever, and...

  
Boromir deliberated for a moment, then slowly he walked back towards the Ranger. Leaning down he looked into his eyes thoughtfully, and gave him a long passionate kiss. He broke away slowly, his lips lingering over Aragorn's face, his fingers gently caressing Aragorn's chin, smoothing Aragorn's unkempt, dark hair away from his face. He knelt down in front of the Ranger, and taking both of Aragorn's hands in his own, he kissed them and looked up, " My Lord..." he said.

  
Aragorn held his breath expectantly, filled with desire, arousal and love. He desperately wanted Boromir to say it, to accept him as King, so that he could then take him as a lover, without rivalry. He waited for him to say it. Please, he thought desperately, please just accept my position and then I will forget all your derision and sarcasm and take you as mine.

  
Boromir gazed into Aragorn's face searchingly, holding Aragorn's suspense with his grey eyes, deep and sincere.

  
"...Gondor needs no king."

  
He patted Aragorn's head comfortingly, and walked back to his boot.

  
Aragorn stared stunned after him, making small, enraged squeaking noises.

  
~

  
Legolas felt a hard knobbly object shoved, not very gently, between his shoulder blades. Guiltily, he looked up into a pointy hatted face peering menacingly at him.

  
"Gandalf...?"

Gandalf paused thoughtfully," I just realised, that your name, if you say it in Elvish would be-"

  
"Shut up, mate."

  
"Would be Greenleaf- "

  
"Don't say it, mate!"

  
"Would be Greenleaf Greenleaf."

  
"It's not funny y'know!"

  
" Whatever was your Father thinking? However," Gandalf turned his attentions back to the matter at hand. "What are you doing, may I ask? In case you had not realised, the Men are over there." He pointed a finger behind him.

  
Legolas smiled; "I'm counting my winnings" he answered innocently.

  
"Really," Gandalf raised an eyebrow, "I was under the impression that the betting ended at daybreak."

  
Legolas waved an arm at the faint glimmer of morning appearing over the mountains. "It is daybreak" he stated defensively.

  
"No, I don't believe it is" answered Gandalf; " the bets are not counted until the sun shows it's entire face above the Mountain. Much could yet happen before Anor rises completely."

  
Legolas swore in Elvish under his breath, but before Gandalf could comment on his lack of decorum a boot went flying over their heads.

  
"Boromir, you bastard!" came Aragorn's agonised shriek from behind the trees.

  
Gandalf winked at Legolas. "I believe that the fates of the bookkeeper are changing at last."

  
With a look of panic Legolas leaped up and sprinted back to the edge of the thicket, desperate to reassure himself that his winnings were not in jeopardy.

  
~

  
"My gravest apologies, Lord Aragorn. Did I nearly hit you with my boot? I assure you, I did not know you were there," said Boromir sarcastically.

  
Aragorn glowered at him, "I fear, that regardless of your childish act of ill-humour, I am still the heir to the throne of Gondor."

  
Boromir grinned at him and leaned down to pick up his remaining boot. Aragorn was momentarily distracted as the soft beams of the newly rising sun sparkled over Boromir's toned and lithe body, and he lost the thread of the conversation. There were a few moments of silence until Aragorn suddenly remembered the what he had been saying.

  
"I am the heir" he reinstated. "The blood of Numenor runs in my veins!"

  
Again, he was distracted again as Boromir stood up back up, muscles and sinews rippling with the movement, boot in hand. There was another pause as Aragorn gathered his concentration.

  
"While you will always be merely a Steward!" he finally finished.

  
Boromir looked unimpressed. Glancing down at the tub of lube, which had been abandoned on the ground, he changed the subject.

  
"Why did you claim that you had never partaken of this manner of exertion before?" Boromir asked softly.

  
"Why do you psuppose that I have?" Aragorn answered him guardedly.

  
"My Lord, I know what it feels like to involve myself with people who have not had experience in these matters, and you do not fall into that category."

  
"I have never partaken of this manner of exertion with a _Steward_ before." Aragorn said defensively.

  
"Is that so?" Boromir appraised the Ranger thoughtfully."Well then my Lord, do you only fuck people that you wish to force into submission, or do you simply fuck anything that moves?"

  
"I do not fuck anything that moves" exclaimed Aragorn resentfully.

Boromir watched him accusingly,"oh really?"

The Ranger stared back furiously. "I don't fuck trees."

  
"Trees don't move"

  
"Some of them do."

  
"Suddenly, I feel that I do not want to know."

  
"You started it."

  
The two men glared at each other across the thicket.

  
"So how many other members of the Fellowship have you bedded?" Boromir sneered eventually.

  
Aragorn scowled at him.

  
"Come Lord Aragorn" Boromir persisted, "surely there should be no secrets between a Steward and his _King_."

  
Aragorn refused to answer. He did not have to reveal anything to this man! It was this man who should be answering to him. To him, the King. Lost in indignant contemplation, he failed to notice that Boromir had moved to stand directly behind him, and jumped when he felt Boromir's arm's suddenly encircle his waist, and Boromir's hips rubbing up against his backside.

  
"Three!" he gasped recklessly.

  
~

  
"Three?" repeated Pippin incredulously.

  
Sam, Merry, Gimli and Pippin looked at each other in surprise.

  
"Well," said Merry, "it wasn't me."

  
"And it wasn't me either" asserted Pippin.

  
"It was never me!" Sam put in quickly. They turned to look at the Dwarf.

  
"I would never do anything like that with a Man!" Gimli exclaimed, horrified that they could even consider such a thing. "You can trust a Man," he went on sagely, "it's Elves that you can't trust. They don't know when to keep their hands to themselves."

In a exemplary show of subconcious empathy, Sam, Merry and Pippin decided not to ask Gimli how he had discovered that particular Elvish fact.

  
"But that means," said Pippin, "including Boromir, Aragorn has been with Legolas and Gandalf, so they both had inside tips to influence their bets!"

  
"Here, that's right!" exclaimed Sam angrily.

  
"No, wait," said Gimli, waving his hands at the hobbits," Aragorn wasn't including Boromir! Boromir asked how many _other_ members he had bedded, and he replied three."

  
Frodo intently investigated a hole in his jacket.

  
"But then..." started Sam.

  
Sam, Merry, Pippin and Gimli turned to look at Frodo.

  
Frodo continued to intently investigate the hole in his jacket.

  
"Mister Frodo...?!" cried Sam in shock and disbelief, "you never..."

  
"Sam, no." protested Frodo desperately, "I only..."

  
"But, Mister Frodo" Sam sounded close to tears, "why?"

  
"Sam...I'm so sorry Sam."

  
"How could you...?"

  
Frodo found another hole in his jacket. "Do you remember at the council meeting, Sam?" he asked softly," when Aragorn said that I had his sword...?"

  
Sam nodded.

  
"Well, it turned out that he meant it more ways than one."

  
"Oh dear" mumbled Gimli.

**part four**


	4. part four

**a boys night at the betting ring**

part four 
Boromir leaned his chin on Aragorn's shoulder. "Three?" he whispered into the Ranger's ear huskily, "let me guess..." 
Thoughtfully he nuzzled against Aragorn's neck, brushing the rough stubble of his chin teasingly over the Ranger's shoulder and slowly caressing the Ranger's nipples with his fingertips. Unconsciously, Aragorn leaned his body back into Boromir's embrace, pushing himself closer into the Steward's arms. His previous anger and frustration completely forgotten in the warmth of the other man's touch. An insatiable fire, swallowing his soul and dulling his mind in a steam-induced fog of passion. His pulse quickened and closing his eyes, he felt Boromir's insistent fingers pursuing each other across his chest, mapping out new boundaries with tips of tingling desire. 
"...I'm sure that the Hobbits would love you, my _King_," Boromir murmured eventually, abandoning his investigation of Aragorn's torso and slowly moving his hands down to fondle Aragorn's cock meaningfully, "I am sure that you would all be about the same size." 

~

"Ahh!! My ears!!" Legolas clapped his hands to his head in a desperate attempt to shut out Aragorn's outraged yell, and stumbled backwards out of the bushes in which he was hiding. 
Gandalf followed him, and watched in consternation as the Elf collapsed to the forest floor, moaning mournfully and attempting to insert his fingers as far into ear holes as they would possibly go. 
"My poor, poor, sensitive Elven hearing y'know," Legolas mumbled softly to himself. 
"Master Greenleaf?" whispered Gandalf worriedly, and after receiving no answer he tried again, a little louder. "Legolas Greenleaf?!" 
Gandalf waved his staff in front of the Elf's face. The Elf looked up, startled, as if he had been unaware of the Wizard's presence. 
"It's quiet now" Gandalf informed him," Aragorn has stopped yelling." 
Legolas looked at him blankly. 
"What was that, mate?" he asked. 
"Aragorn has stopped yelling" repeated Gandalf patiently. 
"Ahh- didn't quite catch that..." 
"Aragorn Has Stopped Yelling!" 
"..." 
The Wizard sighed, exasperated, and giving Legolas a thump with his staff, he 
motioned for the Elf to take his fingers out of his ears. 
  
Legolas scowled at him, but warily removed his hands from his head. "There was no need to hit me, y'know," he muttered defensively. "Elves ears are very sensitive, I can't be too careful." 
"I'm sure you will survive," responded Gandalf dismissively, "however, now that you can hear me, perhaps you can explain what made Aragorn so distressed." 
Obligingly, Legolas told him. 
"So Boromir insinuated that Aragorn was as small as a Hobbit?" clarified the Wizard. 
Legolas nodded. 
"Although, some Hobbits are much larger than you would expect," commented Gandalf thoughtfully. 
Legolas cringed silently. 
"I mean..." began Gandalf. 
There was an embarrassed pause. 
"I was talking about feet," Gandalf explained hurriedly. 
"Oh," said the Elf. 
"Some Hobbits have feet that are much larger than you would expect," reiterated the Wizard. 
"I see" 
"But Boromir wasn't talking about feet, was he?" 
"No." 
"But Aragorn is quite small, when you think about it..." 
"His feet?" asked Legolas innocently. 
The Wizard glared at him. "No" he replied bluntly. 
"His cock?" confirmed the Elf virtuously. 
Gandalf nodded. 
"Yes..." Legolas agreed," he is rather." 
There was a pause as they both shuffled back into a good viewing position amidst the undergrowth at the edge of the thicket. 
"Although I only discovered how small he was tonight" said Gandalf abruptly. 
"Well, yeah," Legolas replied hastily, "I didn't have any idea how small he was before this, y'know." 
"No, of course not" agreed Gandalf. 
  
"Like, I'd never seen it until just now." 
  
"No." 

~

Aragorn stormed furiously around the thicket, grabbing discarded pieces of clothing from the ground and pulling them with a distinct absence of coherent thought. 
  
"My _King_?" questioned the Steward, attempting to get a reaction from the fuming Ranger, who ignored Boromir and continued determinedly in his struggle to put a leg through the armhole of the Steward's embroidered red tunic. 
"I fear that that would be my tunic, Lord Aragorn" Boromir commented helpfully. 
Aragorn looked down at the object in his hand. Yes, now that he looked at it closely, it did appear to be rather more red than any of his own attire. Damn, damn, damn! He looked frenetically round the thicket. Where in Gorgoroth were his clothes! 
  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Boromir reach into a gloomy shadow on the ground. At the Steward's touch the shadow transformed itself into a dark leather coat. 
"I believe this one to be yours," Boromir said as he held up the Ranger's garment. 
Aragorn glared at him, and threw the offending red tunic on the ground. He marched over to the Steward and violently wrenched the proffered item out of his hand. 
  
Silently, Boromir went to pick up his own clothing. As he looked around unprofitably for his other boot, he reflected that throwing his footwear at Aragorn may not have been the wisest course of action. Perhaps he had pushed the Ranger far enough. He didn't really want to annoy the man so much that they never spoke again. That much animosity would make travelling together really quite difficult. 
Although, he considered, it wasn't really his fault. If the guy wouldn't shut up about being King, then what was he supposed to do? Plus, it was so easy to piss Aragorn off. Nonetheless...he stopped to watch the half naked Ranger grappling with his clothing...Aragorn had been quite a satisfying distraction for most of the night, and he had proved really quite experienced in the activities of the evening...perhaps he needed some help dressing? 
"Do you need any assistance?" asked Boromir, as Aragorn successfully entangled himself in his coat, tore one of the sleeves off his shirt, and managed to gouge a huge rent in his cloak with his sword. 
  
The Ranger gave him a death stare, and extricating himself from the coat, discarding the ripped shirtsleeve, and throwing the ripped cloak over his shoulder, he began to make his way out of the thicket. Boromir sighed. The man was just no fun, he concluded regretfully, pulling the red tunic over his shoulders. Poking his head through the neck hole, he looked up and was surprised to discover that it was nearly dawn. He watched as the bright face of Anor rose slowly between the distant mountains, bathing the snow-capped peaks in a golden glow. Deciding that it was probably time to get back to the rest of the company Boromir gave up on the idea of finding his other boot, and limped barefooted across the clearing and after the Ranger. 

~

"They're leaving!" exclaimed Legolas frantically. "Quick, get back to the campsite!" 
  
"There's no hurry," Gandalf reassured him, "Gimli and the Hobbits are still there. " 
" Oh, that's right," answered Legolas calming down slightly. He glanced towards the mountains, "Look- the sun is up. Aragorn and Boromir stayed together all night, I win the bet!" 
Gandalf squinted into the sunrise and shook his head. 
"Nay, Master Elf" he disagreed," fair Anor is not completely up yet." 
" Is too..." Legolas began to protest, but his objection trailed off as he noticed Gandalf's eyebrows begin to shift threateningly. Deciding that the best course of action was to stay silent, the Elf turned his gaze back to the forest. 
"Hey, what's that?" he exclaimed suddenly pointing towards the other side of the thicket, where a large bush appeared to be undergoing an epileptic fit. "Why are those branches shaking?" 
  
Gandalf's eyes followed the direction indicated by the Elf's pointing finger. He watched the mysteriously trembling branches in consternation. 
"It's the hobbits!" Legolas suddenly shouted in surprise. "They've snuck out of the campsite! There will be no one in there when the Men get back!" 
  
Exchanging a panicked look they both bolted out of the undergrowth, heading for the clearing. 
  
At the same moment a shrill shout came from the convulsing bushes opposite. "Run! They've seen us!" 
There was a mass exodus towards the camp as the two separate parties ran from the thicket, but in their haste the two groups collided among the trees. Merry and Pippin ran headlong into Legolas and knocked him forcefully to the ground while Frodo and Sam executed a graceful skid into Gandalf's long skirts. Unlike the Elf, Gandalf skillfully managed to keep his feet, and pulled the two Hobbits out from between his legs, standing them back on their feet, where they were promptly mown down by the Dwarf who hadn't quite stopped in time. As Frodo, Sam and Gimli picked themselves up from the ground, they turned to watch Legolas struggling frantically, still trapped beneath Merry and Pippin. 
"Get off him! Get off him!" Gimli shouted at the Hobbits. "Watch the hair!" 
Pippin looked up at him in bewilderment, "watch the what?" he asked, confused. 
  
Gimli hopped about in agitation, waving his hands wildly. "Watch the hair!" he explained. "Legolas gets so many leaves in it when he rolls on the ground! It took me ages to brush all the knots out last time we-... " 
The Dwarf stopped in mid-sentence. 
"Last time you...?" prompted Gandalf, looking at the Dwarf curiously. 
"Ohh..." Gimli paused, "we...um...last time we tripped over... and Legolas rolled on the ground and got leaves in his hair." 
"And when was that exactly?" 
"Well, ah...when Legolas...ah...fell off a rock one time" answered Gimli lamely. 
"Legolas fell off a rock?" repeated Pippin disbelievingly. 
"Yes" reiterated the Dwarf, throwing a dirty glance at the youngest hobbit. 
Pippin turned to Merry. "Legolas fell off a rock?" he repeated. Merry shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the Elf skeptically. 
"So Legolas fell off the rock...and then he tripped over you...and then he rolled around on the ground?" asked Gandalf, not to be discouraged from his line of enquiry. 
Gimli turned his attentions back to the wizard. "Umm...Yes?" he answered uncertainly. 
Gandalf looked at Legolas who was busily pretending to be somewhere else, while unobtrusively attempting to disentangle himself from Merry and Pippin. 
"And then you nicely offered to brush his hair for him?" Gandalf continued. 
  
A bright glow slowly began to rise up Gimli's neck, turning his face a brilliant red that complimented the colour of his beard stunningly. 
The Wizard watched the spectacular colour transformation thoughtfully. However, before he could finish his cross-examination, Legolas managed to extricate himself from the Hobbits and hastily changed the subject. 
"Anyway," he exclaimed, "what are you guys all doing here? I thought we left you at the campsite, y'know." 
Suddenly realising that if the Men reached the campsite before them, there would be no one to verify the outcome of the bets, the Company looked at one another in dismay. With a superb display of spontaneous mutual agreement, the group left the Gimli-Legolas affair for later discussion, and sprinted frantically after the Men. 

~

Aragorn burst into the clearing, and looked around in surprise. The campsite was empty- completely devoid of any life. Every bedroll was vacant, impressively vacant in fact. The clearing was a silent as the Hall of Fire after Elrond had attempted to sing that time, and everyone had walked out before their ears burst. 
What in Arda could had happened? He stopped to consider the possibilities. Perhaps they had all needed to relieve themselves simultaneously? No, probably not very likely. How about...an unscheduled early morning fitness routine? Somehow he couldn't imagine Gimli getting into the pre-dawn exercise scene. 
So where were they? With a sinking feeling he realised that while he had been away with Boromir, anything could have happened. He looked around in panic. Had Sauron's Orcs come upon them in the night and taken them away to deliver them to the foul pits of Mordor? Or had they been beset by hordes of spies sent from Orthanc, whose minds were intent on committing atrocities too abhorrent to think about? 
  
Suddenly he heard the sound of movement behind him. He spun round in alarm, breathing a sigh of relief as he realised it was only Boromir making his way into the clearing. Aragorn gestured dramatically at the Steward, his concern for the fate of the others making him forget his previous anger. 
"They're all gone!" he exclaimed in distress. 
Boromir looked around. Assuming that the Ranger was referring to the rest of the Fellowship, and not the dwindling supply of carrots in the Fellowship's food stores, he nodded. "Yes," he agreed, "they are." 
Wondering what Aragorn expected him to do about it, he waited for the Ranger's next highly perceptive statement. It was not long in coming. 
"They aren't here!" 
Just in case one of the Hobbits had materialised from beneath a rock, or Legolas had emerged from the tree-tops, Boromir looked around again. Discovering that nothing of the sort had happened, he shook his head. "No," he agreed,"they're not." 
He watched as the Ranger anxiously inspected the tracks left by the Fellowship on the forest floor. He had to admit, Aragorn was showing some real concern over the vanished Fellowship members. Although, he supposed, he would probably have been more concerned about their disappearance also, if he hadn't heard them racing through the undergrowth behind him. 

~

Right on cue, the first of the missing Company arrived in the form of a breathlessly panting Elf, followed closely by the rest of the Fellowship. They pulled up abruptly as they caught sight of the two men. 
Aragorn stared at them with a mixture of astonishment and relief. 
"What happened?" he asked in confusion. "Where have you all been?" 
  
Ignoring his questions the recently arrived Company members attempted to regain their breath. Finally Pippin gasped out desperately, "who was here first?" 
"What?" asked the Ranger in bewilderment. 
  
"Who was here first?" repeated the Hobbit. Aragorn looked at him stupidly, and Pippin slowly restated his question so that the Man could understand. 
"Which - one - of - you - two..." he pointed at the Ranger and the Steward, "...got back - to - the - campsite - first?" 
  
"Oh" said Aragorn, finally comprehending the question,"I did." 
Merry clapped his hand to his forehead and groaned in dismay. His cousin, on the other hand, gave a loud cry of ecstasy. 
"Hear that Sam, Frodo! We've won! We've won!" 
Gandalf gave a grimace, and turned to the Steward, "you did not arrive first, Boromir?" he asked, vainly clinging to the hope that he and Gimli could still win the bet. 
Boromir shook his head. "No" he said. 
"Gah!" Gimli glared at the Steward disgustedly. 
"I can see my faith in you was misplaced," he spat angrily, "as was my money." He shot a dark and menacing look at the Steward. Boromir was about to protest when he was interrupted by an urgent shout from the Elf.  
  
"Hang on a bit!" Legolas waved a hand at the sun which was, by now, well and truly above the mountains. "Aragorn...was the sun up completely when you got here?" 
Aragorn looked at him blankly. 
  
"I don't know" he answered. 
  
The Elf tossed his head impatiently, the early morning breeze catching at his golden braids. "Think mate!" he commanded, "Boromir, did you notice?" 
Once again, Boromir shook his head. 
"Damn!" swore the Elf angrily. "The sun _must_ have been up. I say Merry and I win." 
  
"No way!" complained Pippin, "hand over our stakes." 
  
Legolas scowled at him and held the bag containing the Fellowship's betting money high out of the Hobbit's reach. 
Aragorn watched their exchange suspiciously. "What's going on?" he asked again. "Where have you all been?" 
Abruptly, Legolas and Pippin stopped their argument guiltily and fell quiet, while the other members of the Company suddenly discovered other things to do. Like investigate the symbiotic relationship between pockets and pocket lint. 
  
"Umm..."said Pippin. 
There was a brief silence and he vainly looked around at the rest of the Company for some support. When none was forthcoming, he tried again. 
"Well..." 
He caught a glimpse of Aragorn's skeptical expression and trailed off. 
  
"We were..." said Legolas. 
"Why don't you ask Boromir?" suggested Gimli spitefully, still upset about losing his money by backing the Steward. 
  
Aragorn looked at Boromir with an expression of distrust, that was bordering on anger. 
" What in Arda is going on!?" he exclaimed. 'I demand to know!" 
  
Boromir shrugged non-commitally and held his silence. Aragorn scowled jealously. Something had happened that everyone knew about except him! Even the damn Steward knew about it! He clenched his hands furiously. This was just too much. He was the King dammit! King! King! King! Why did no one understand this! Even Gandalf- he glowered across at the Wizard, who was busily inspecting his fingernails virtuously- appeared to be hiding something. And Legolas...he looked at the Elf in hurt betrayal... 
But the Elf was once again occupied with the desperate attacks of Pippin, who had recommenced his attempts to seize the stakes. Holding the bag high above his head, Legolas easily managed to fend off the short Hobbit. 
"You've got no chance, Mate" he said, as Pippin made a futile leap for the money. 
Boromir watched them thoughtfully for a moment, and then walked quietly up behind Legolas. He reached out and plucked the bag of winnings out of the Elf's unsuspecting fingers. The Elf spun round surprised, his mouth open in shock. 
"Hey! What are you doing, Mate?" he shouted. 
Boromir glanced at him with his best _'I Would Never Even Think Of Taking Anything That Wasn't Mine' _expression, and inspected the contents of the bag innocently. 
"I deem," he said casually, "that if you cannot decide on a winner between yourselves, then I should accept these stakes as a reward for my services." 
  
"Your services!" spluttered the Elf in outrage. 
  
"Why yes," answered Boromir, "I was approached by the young Pippin here, who suggested that I should extend my services towards our _King_, for the purpose of a little bet that you were running." 
  
" No, I didn't!" squeaked Pippin in protest. "I just suggested that you should keep an open mind." 
  
"Regardless," the Steward answered carelessly, " I suggest that the money is mine now." 
Legolas glared at him, "interesting set-up, Boromir. You wait for every one else to put their bets in, and then you take the money for yourself. Ingenious. 
Boromir nodded at him, "Thank you, Legolas." 
"But it still boils down to petty theft" continued the Elf. "In the end you're just a robber. Nothing more than a common thief." 
  
The Steward scowled, "you always did have a small mind, Master Elf." 
Within seconds the Elf had a slender silver knife pressed against Boromir's neck. "Give the money back!" he hissed jealously. 
  
"Would you kill another member of the Fellowship?" the Steward questioned softly. 
The Elf pressed the knife closer to the man's neck. However, before the argument could go any further, Aragorn broke in angrily. 
"Stop your childish games!" he demanded. "Someone tell me what in the name of Manwe is going on here!?" 
Legolas jumped guiltily and dropped his knife. He had completely forgotten about the Ranger. With a sigh of relief Boromir rubbed his neck where the knife had left a cold imprint on his skin. 
"Tell me!" commanded the irate Ranger. 
The Fellowship exchanged glances. 
The leaves overhead rustled in the morning breeze. Birds began to break out in song, praising the return of Anor, and the restoration of colour to the land around. 
Aragorn looked at them furiously. "Screw you all!" he shouted angrily. 
"You seem to have already done that, my _King_" answered Boromir, breaking into a grin at Aragorn's discomfort. 
The Ranger fumed. Damn them all to Gorgoroth and back. He gave the Steward a choleric glare. 
"Maybe I just don't want to be King any more!" he shouted. "You can keep Gondor all to yourself. It's a crappy city anyway. Here you can even have the stupid sword!" 
  
He pulled Anduril from his sheath and flung it onto the ground. With a clang, the sword hit a stone and shattered. 
"Oops" murmured Boromir quietly. 
"Oh dear," commented Gandalf, "Elrond will not be pleased." 
Aragorn stared at the sword apoplectically, moronic disbelief spread across his face. 
"Well, you did last for 60 years when it was broken, I trust that you will learn to cope quite well without it again," Boromir said consolingly. 
"Maybe you can use Frodo's sword," suggested Merry helpfully. "You never use it, do you Frodo; you just drop it all the time." 
Frodo looked down at Sting, "It's a bit small..." he protested. 
"Maybe we could tie it up with string-...or something" proposed Pippin, inspecting the shards of Anduril. 
Merry looked at the pieces of sword doubtfully. "It looks very broken Pip," he said. 
"It's just as the old Gaffer always says to me," commented Sam sagely, "you're nought but a ninnyhammer, Samwise. And I'm thinking he'd be saying that to you now Strider, sir." 
The first unbroken rays of sunlight suddenly reached into the clearing, sprinkling the company with golden beams of light, and causing complex patterns of colour to break up the shadows of the night. The mountains behind them sparkled in the early morning sun; the snow glinting in a delirious dance that was reflected and refracted in the shattered metal blade of the sword. 
"I don't think string would work" Boromir stated, picking up the hilt and swinging it casually. 
"It was very old anyway," noted Pippin. 
"That's true," agreed Gandalf. 
"It's probably about time you got a new one, Aragorn," continued Pippin cheerfully. 
Aragorn glowered at them with a rabid look in his eyes. "Damn shoddy Elf workmanship!" he shouted hysterically. 
Legolas bristled visibly. "It's your damn neurotic human temperament, Mate!" he shouted back. 
"Like you can talk, you narcissistic Elf!" returned the manic Ranger as he leapt violently at Legolas, and the Elf found himself tackled to the ground for the second time that morning. He gave an enraged shriek, and within seconds there was an untidy ball of long blonde hair and leather clad limbs, catapulting rampantly across the clearing, emitting loud shouts of "think you're so good don't you, you ego-centric pointy-eared freak!" and "you're just jealous 'cos you haven't had a wash since you were born, Mate!" at random intervals. 
The company watched the spectacle silently. Eventually Gandalf turned away, shaking his head in resignation. It had been a long night. 
"I need to sleep," he said bluntly, stepping around the ferocious ball of arms and legs, and collapsing on his bedroll. He pulled his blanket over his head and waved an arm vaguely. 
"Wake me when the Elves discover coffee" he mumbled through his hat, and within seconds had degenerated into a pile of grey fuzz and loud nasal snores. 
  
Boromir tossed the money bag between his hands idly. The remaining members of the Fellowship, watched it greedily as it moved gracefully through the air. 
  
Noticing their eyes on the money, the Steward grinned and swung the bag tauntingly over their heads. 
"I wager..." he said roguishly, " that Aragorn sleeps with the fair Elf this night." 
the end. 
the finished productI hope everybody likes it! 
the thanksmany random yays to all the people who have given me reviews. I was very excited to get them! 
the random advertising if you liked the fic, please check out the site on my author bio! 
the futureI think I like this fanfic writing deal. I have discvered that it is rather fun. 


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